


You Need Some Space?

by Rey_Thats_Gay



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Gender-Neutral Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Love Confessions, M/M, Mutual Idiocy, Mutual Pining, Suicidal Thoughts, i figured i'd put the tag there just in case, i mean not really he's joking but, pidge knew all along, they argue and then make out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-18
Updated: 2017-02-18
Packaged: 2018-09-25 06:45:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9807944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rey_Thats_Gay/pseuds/Rey_Thats_Gay
Summary: Lance is distraught. He thought he and Keith had been getting along finally! But then the guy started straight-up ignoring him out of nowhere. He’s got no idea what to do on his own, so he does what he always does: complains to Pidge. The youngest paladin gives him some deceptively simple advice… but of course, when is anything ever easy in space?





	

“Lance, please get your face out of my pillow.”

 

“Never. I hope I suffocate.”

 

“Stop being such a drama queen.”

 

Lance gasped, offended, though it was partially muffled by the pillow he was currently smothering himself with. He was face-down on Pidge’s bed, at some ungodly hour of the morning, since he hadn’t been able to sleep. Pidge didn’t seem to mind him barging in whenever he was awake, so it had sort of become a habit between them. And it had also become a habit for him to complain to them about his biggest problem, the current pain in his ass: Keith Kogane.

 

“ _ Excuse _ you,” he whined, “I am not a drama queen. I’m like, a drama empress,  _ at the very least.” _

 

“Is there even a rank above empress?” Pidge muttered. He could hear them still tinkering with whatever contraption they had on their desk.

 

“Details, Pidgey! You know what I mean! And what I mean is I hope this stupid pillow kills me.” His hopes were immediately cut short as the pillow was pulled from beneath his face, and he yelped, landing fully on the bed with a soft  _ thump. _ Then he pushed himself up on his arms, shooting a death glare at the younger teen, who was now sitting on the pillow. “Pidge!”

 

“This is an intervention,” they deadpanned, without turning around. “I’m not letting you kill yourself over a crush.”

 

“You’re a horrible friend,” Lance complained, shifting so he was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. “Anyway, it’s not  _ just _ the crush this time! Sort of.”

 

That caught Pidge’s attention. They put their--whatever they were working on--down and turned to him, one arm leaning over their chair and one eyebrow raised. “Oh? What’s wrong now?”

 

Lance sighed, his lower lip sticking out slightly. “I mean, it is Keith, just not like, the same old thing,” he explained. “He’s been avoiding me. And I don’t know why, because I thought we were sort of getting along, and like, we were still fighting but it was more like playful teasing, and I thought he was having fun with it, but I don’t know I guess I must have said something that upset him and now he doesn’t wanna talk to me and I don’t know what to do--”

 

“Have you tried, I dunno, talking to him?” Pidge asked in what Lance called their ‘gremlin voice’, giving him an expression that clearly said  _ You’re an idiot. _

 

Lance scoffed and pressed a hand to his chest in offense. “I don’t appreciate your tone.”

 

“Appreciate it as much or as little as you want,” they responded flippantly, turning back to their project. “But I think both of you could really benefit from talking out what’s bothering you.”

 

“ _ He’s _ the only thing bothering me,” Lance mumbled, “but I guess you have a point. I  _ guess. _ ”

 

“Of course I have a point. In your own words, I’m the smartest person on this ship.” Pidge flashed a smirk over their shoulder at him, then picked up one of their tools, fiddling with the contraption on their desk again.

 

“ _ I’m the smartest person on this ship, _ ” Lance mocked in a high-pitched voice, flapping a hand in their direction; then he sighed, closing his eyes. “Yeah, but I guess you have a point. I guess I’ll… try to talk to him?” His eyes snapped open again as dread set in. “What do I even say? What if he just ignores me again?”

 

“You could try just telling him the truth.” Lance could practically hear them rolling their eyes. “That you don’t know why he’s avoiding you, and you want to know if you did anything wrong.”

 

Lance squirmed uncomfortably at the thought. He’d never really been good at just talking, genuinely, about his own feelings. He was even worse at apologizing, and worse still at talking to  _ Keith. _ Never mind the fact that his heart fluttered every time he saw the red paladin, but the guy just ticked him off! They could barely ever get through a few sentences without bickering at each other. Although, until Keith had started ignoring him, their bickering had turned more playful. He’d caught himself actually  _ smiling _ when they argued.

 

And, once, he thought he’d seen Keith smile too.

 

But then Keith had started flat-out ignoring him, leaving rooms as he walked in, refusing to answer anything he said. They didn’t train together, they didn’t sit next to each other when they ate, hell, they barely even talked when they formed Voltron. And Lance knew the rest of the team could feel the rift between them too; they were just lucky it hadn’t destabilized Voltron. Yet.

 

“You’re right. Again,” he conceded finally. “I mean, I guess I would’ve had to talk to him anyway, but… Geez, I really don’t want to. I will, though, I will!” he added hastily, throwing his hands up to pacify Pidge as they turned to glare at him. “It’s just… gonna be an ordeal. Like everything is with him, lately.”

 

“Cheer up. I’m sure it’ll be alright. What’s the worst that could happen?”

 

Lance felt a knot of dread tighten in his stomach. “I really wish you hadn’t asked that.”

 

===

 

When Lance wandered into the bridge later that day, he was surprised to find Keith standing at the window, staring off into space. Besides the two of them, the bridge was empty, and he found the quiet somewhat disturbing. For a moment, he was tempted to just leave, wait to catch Keith another time, but he knew he couldn’t do that. So he swallowed down his misgivings, took a deep breath, and then walked forward to join his rival at the window.

 

Keith glanced at him when he leaned against the wall, but didn’t leave, which Lance figured was a good start. “Hey,” Lance offered meekly.

 

“Hey.”

 

Okay, so he was talking. That was good. Lance let out a breath and ran a hand through his hair nervously. “I, uh, wanted to talk to you.”

 

“Well, here I am.” Keith still wasn’t looking at him, his dark gray eyes scanning their surroundings, reflecting the stars.

 

Lance cleared his throat. “You’ve, um, been avoiding me. For like, a few days now. And I just wanted to--wanted to ask if, if I did anything wrong?” He hated how nervous he sounded, but pushed through anyway. “Because we had kind of been getting along and then you started to ignore me and I’m kind of worried that it’s my fault and even though you’re still my rival I thought we had gotten closer and now I’m worried it’s going to affect Voltron so we kind of need to work this out,” he blurted out in one breath, the words running together.

 

Keith blinked. It seemed to take him a second to process what Lance had said. After what felt like eternity, but was probably only a few ticks, he spoke hesitantly. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

 

Lance felt relief wash over him, though it was still overshadowed by his doubt and uncertainty. “So then why have you been avoiding me?”

 

Keith’s expression visibly tightened, as if he was closing himself off. He pushed away from the window. “I’m not avoiding you.”

 

“Uh, yeah, you are.” Lance frowned at him. “And if I didn’t do anything wrong, then what gives? Seriously, dude, work with me here.”

 

“I’m going to the training deck.”

 

“Wha--Keith, no, come on!” Lance grabbed for his arm, but Keith dodged and left the bridge quickly, hands shoved in the pockets of his jeans. Lance groaned and let his head fall back against the wall of the ship with a quiet  _ thunk. _ “Ow.” He took a deep breath and counted slowly to five in his head.  _ Okay, Lance. You can do this. You still have to work this out. For Voltron. _ Yeah, right. For Voltron. Lance shook his head as he opened his eyes. He knew somewhere inside himself that he wasn’t doing any of this for Voltron--it was all for Keith.

 

As if he’d ever admit it.

 

===

 

Unsurprisingly, Lance didn’t find Keith in the training deck.

 

If he was being honest, he hadn’t really expected to. The guy seemed hell-bent on avoiding him, and announcing where he was going to be and then  _ actually going there _ wasn’t really conducive to that. Still, he had checked, the faint flutter of hope in his chest quickly dying when he found it empty.  _ Great. So where’s the wannabe ninja now? _

 

He checked the dining hall. And the lounge. And the med bay. And Pidge and Hunk’s lab. He nearly got attacked by some crazy Altean-language-learning program. He muttered indignant insults at the Altean pool. Hell, he even went down and poked his head in the teludav room, hoping against hope to see a familiar mullet. But he’d found nothing.

 

It had to have been at least an hour, maybe two, since Keith had left the bridge. Lance wandered the halls dejectedly, not knowing what to do with himself. All he had wanted was to talk, maybe apologize if he needed to, but Keith had just run off--again. Lance really wasn’t sure Keith had been telling the truth when he said that it wasn’t Lance’s fault.

 

He rounded a corner, and stopped, eyes widening. There, leaning back against the wall, was Keith, his brow furrowed as he stared out the large observation window opposite him. The faint blue glow from the castle’s overhead lights illuminated him softly, and Lance had to remember to breathe. In and out, nice and slow.  _ Blue is a really good color for him. _

 

Tearing his eyes away from Keith’s  _ ridiculously attractive _ face, Lance cleared his throat awkwardly, smiling sheepishly when Keith jerked towards him. “Lance?” he demanded, sounding a cross between surprised and irritated.

 

“That’s the name,” Lance answered easily, staying where he was at the end of the hall. “Look, can you please not run away this time? I’m just trying to figure out what’s up.”

 

“Nothing is  _ up, _ ” Keith huffed indignantly, glaring out the window again.

 

Lance raised an eyebrow. “Sure. But you’ve been leaving rooms whenever I walk in and ignoring every single thing that’s come out of my mouth for a week, so it’s kinda hard for me to believe you’re just totally fine.” He paused, and then sighed. “Really, did I do something?”

 

“You didn’t  _ do _ anything.”

 

“Well then, what is it? Are you hurt or something?”

 

“I’m fine.” Keith was clearly getting irritated by the questions; Lance could see his jaw clench.

 

He ignored it. “Are you not eating enough, then? Do I stink? Are you just some--some greasy trash goblin who’s worried my skin care routine will rub off on you?”

 

Keith finally turned to him, eyes narrowed, fists clenched at his sides as he shouted, “Dammit, Lance, I just need some space!”

 

Lance’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline. He looked at Keith. He glanced to his right, at the floor-to-ceiling observation window. He bent both of his arms to the left, then flung them dramatically towards the window, a  _ well, duh! _ sort of expression on his face.

 

Keith raised a hand to his forehead. “Oh, my God, Lance.”

 

“You need some  _ space? _ ” Lance asked incredulously. “It’s right there! Go get it, Keith!”

 

“Shut up.”

 

“No! You haven’t listened to a word I’ve said for a week, so I’m gonna make you listen  _ now! _ ” Lance crossed his arms and took a few steps towards Keith, stopping just a couple of feet away. “I don’t know what the hell’s up with your broody emo bullshit, but you need to cut the crap and talk to me! We’re part of a team, Keith, and our team needs us! So just--just tell me what I need to do, to make this better, to fix whatever we had going between us--”

 

“There’s nothing you can do, Lance--”

 

“Bullshit!” Lance interrupted him, raising a finger accusingly. “That’s bullshit, Keith, don’t give me that. Seriously, do you just need me to not bother you as much? Because I can do that! I can back off, I get it if I’m too much to handle!”

 

Keith groaned. “That’s not the problem--”

 

“ _ Then what is? _ ” Lance took another step forward, practically shouting at this point.

 

Keith stepped forward too, and they were so close to each other, less than an arm’s length away. And Keith was shouting at him, arms raised in anger, cheeks bright red. “It’s  _ you, _ you asshole! You complete idiot! You joke, and you laugh, and you tease, and you  _ flirt, _ and it drives me crazy because I  _ know _ you hate me, but I can’t stop  _ liking _ your stupid smile and your stupid laugh and wanting--” he cut himself off, eyes going comically wide as he realized what he was saying. He wrapped his arms around himself with a huff and turned away, eyes on the ground. “Never mind. Just forget I said anything. Can you go now?”

 

Lance, for his part, was dumbstruck. His thoughts churned violently, his heartbeat speeding up as he tried to process what he’d heard. “Wait, wait, wait.” He held up a hand. “You--you  _ like _ me?”

 

Keith’s ears turned red. Lance thought it was the cutest thing he’d ever seen. “Yes, you idiot.”

 

“Okay, but you  _ like-like _ me?”

 

“What are you, twelve?” Keith muttered.

 

“On a scale of one to ten,” Lance shot back, and then paused, sighing. “Okay, okay, sorry, I just--didn’t expect--”

 

“Please just go--”

 

“--you to like me back,” Lance finished, rubbing the back of his neck as Keith’s head snapped up. “Because I, um. I like--you--too. I kind of have, for a while, and I just didn’t want to make it awkward, but I guess that’s kind of what I’m doing right now because I’m really bad with words when it comes to important things--important people--and I just--” he breathed out through his nose, interrupting his own babbling. “Can I--can I kiss you now?”

 

Now it was Keith’s turn to look shell-shocked. For a moment, Lance worried he’d broken him. Then, Keith nodded, just once, the motion jerky and anxious, and Lance let out a shaky breath. He leaned in, slowly, raising a hand to cup Keith’s cheek. Keith’s eyes fluttered shut, and he was just so damn  _ cute _ , Lance didn’t know what to do with himself. He decided to settle for closing the gap between them--finally--their lips meeting in a kiss.

 

God, Lance had waited so long for this. The kiss was sweet and chaste, just a gentle brush of the lips, but it felt like heaven to him. He gently pulled Keith closer, his free hand going to his waist; Keith’s arms circled his neck, one hand tangling in his hair. Lance smiled and pulled back, ever so slightly, pressing their foreheads together. “So… are we good?”

 

“Hmm.” There was a smirk on Keith’s face that Lance immediately distrusted. “I don’t know,” he mused, sounding thoughtful. Then his hand tightened in Lance’s hair, and Lance yelped as he was forced back against the wall, Keith grinning wickedly up at him through his bangs. Lance swallowed, feeling heat rise to his cheeks. “Do you think we’re good?”

 

_ Holy quiznak. _ The glint in Keith’s eyes was making Lance’s head dizzy and his stomach do flips. “I-I, uh, I think you still owe me, after ignoring me all week, making me think you hated me again,” he stammered breathlessly. Keith just wasn’t  _ fair, _ how come he got to be so cute but at the same time so ridiculously hot--

 

Lance’s train of thought was pleasantly cut off as Keith’s lips met his again, all heat and sloppy hunger, none of the innocence of their first kiss. He made a soft noise deep in his throat and dug his nails into Keith’s hip, pulling him closer, and Keith  _ gasped _ into his mouth, and-- _ Christ, he’s gonna be the death of me, _ was Lance’s first thought, as Keith’s tongue traced his lower lip.

 

_ I could get used to this, _ was his next thought, and his final one before his brain could no longer form coherent thoughts at all.

 

===

 

“I see you took my advice.”

 

Lance jumped at the sudden voice, earning a displeased grumble from Keith, who had previously been resting on his shoulder. He gave his--his  _ boyfriend _ a sheepish smile, and then turned over his shoulder to look at Pidge, who’d just wandered into the lounge with a tablet in their hands. He raised an eyebrow at them. “...Yeah? And?”

 

“And, I’m just glad you’re done being an idiot. Hopefully this means I won’t have to hold my own pillow hostage from you anymore,” Pidge snarked, their eyes focused on the screen. They seemed to be taking some kind of readings in the room? Whatever it was, Lance didn’t understand it, so he pushed it out of his mind.

 

“Nah, never. You never know when the next crisis could happen, Pidgeon! I may have use of your pillow’s suffocating powers at  _ any moment! _ ” he cried dramatically, reaching towards them with one arm, over the back of the couch.

 

They rolled their eyes. “At least you both got over yourselves. It was getting pretty annoying watching your mutual stupidity, if I’m honest.” They readjusted their glasses on their nose with one finger. “Well, that’s it for this room. See ya.” And with that, they ducked out, leaving Lance and Keith dumbfounded on the couch.

 

Keith was the first one to break the silence. “You… you complained to Pidge about your crush on me?”

 

Lance’s cheeks heated up. “Hey, I had to talk to  _ someone, _ okay, I’m sure you probably talked Shiro’s ear off--”

 

“I did,” Keith interrupted, his own face looking a bit pink. “But I  _ also _ talked to Pidge about my crush on you.”

 

Lance’s eyes widened. For a second, he floundered for words. “Wait--but they--they were the one that told me to talk to you. Like, I probably would’ve dragged my feet for another week if it wasn’t for them.”

 

For a second, they both stared at each other. Keith blinked, realization dawning on his face. Lance came to the same conclusion a bit slower--he gasped and stood quickly from the couch, whirling towards the door and raising a fist threateningly. He drew in a deep breath, and then shouted, as loudly as he could,

  
“PIIIIIIIIDGE!”

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everybody!! I know it's been a bit since I posted anything but here I am, with yet another Klance fic! (Who would've guessed?) As always, comments are always very appreciated! Let me know how the pacing was, especially with the dialogue during their argument! I'm still working on making my dialogue flow more naturally, so really, feedback would be very, VERY helpful! ♥
> 
> Aside from that, see you all on the flip side! (If you want to get in contact with me to scream about Voltron and Klance together, feel free to message me on Tumblr @sugar-and-spite !!!)


End file.
